


The Tower

by englishrose2011



Series: The Dragons are coming [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternative Universe Dragons are known, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nat and Clint looking after Phil Coulson, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 14:33:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6011428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishrose2011/pseuds/englishrose2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being rescued by the Avengers, Phil Coulson is taken back to the Avengers Tower, and Tony discovered some of his hidden past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [For my awesome beta reader Antoinette Happy Christmas](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=For+my+awesome+beta+reader+Antoinette+Happy+Christmas).



> Thanks to my beta reader Antoinette, all errors are mine.

The rescue of Senior Agent Coulson had gone to plan, while the rest of the Avengers had taken off to fly back to the Quinjet, Captain America had watched their backs to make sure that SHIELD didn’t attempt to take their prize.

`Iron man, landed first near the Stark Industries Quinjet, turning he watched the other Avengers making their way across the sky towards him. How he envied them, the Stark Dynasty has always been dragons right up until he was born.

A genetic throwback they said, and his father treated him as if he would never be good enough to carry the Stark name just because he couldn’t turn into an overgrown Gecko.

But that didn’t stop him from incorporating the gold and red of the Stark dragon hide into his Iron man suite of armour. His father flew his way, he would fly his own.

 

He saw Clint and Nat in their dragon form spiralling down, before flaring out to land. Immediately their feet touched earth, they both looked up at Bruce; the green Emperor dragon was slowly circling as he waited to be called down. Clint threw back his head making very loud barking and clicking sounds.  Bruce in response began to slowly lose height when he landed it was with the ultimate care of the man he carried strapped to his body.

 

Changing back to human form Nat and Clint ran across to help get Coulson free of the harness. A strong arm went round Coulson’s waist as he was helped towards the Quinjet, as Bruce now free of his cargo reverted back to his human form.

 

Coulson was leaning into Clint’s side as he was helped up the steps of the jet, he nodded to Tony as he came level “Stark.”

 

“Agent,” Tony acknowledged him as he passed moving up the steps into the body of the jet. Bruce to join him just as Captain America glided down. Three strides from when he had touched down and Steve Rogers was walking towards him, the change from dragon to human was effortlessly. Tony clapped him on the back and herding Bruce in front of them as they entered the Quinjet, the moment the door closed Jarvis already had it taking off.

Nat knelt gracefully in front of Coulson, her hand resting on his thighs, as she looked  up and pressed her forehead against his and trilled softly to him.

 

It always amazed Tony the freedom that the two assassins had in using their dragon language while in human form. He had heard horror stories of children being beaten to suppress it, but here she was openly trilling to Coulson, and he couldn’t under…… that was as far as Tony got because it was then that Coulson started to click back at her. Tony leaned forward he must have been mistaken, but no….. Coulson was clicking to her, and Nat was trilling happily back as she rubbed her face against his jaw and throat gently in the human version of a dragon greeting.

 

Clint shook out one of the emergency blankets and carefully put it around Coulson’s shoulders. The archer’s clicking was rougher, and throatier in tone, but Coulson replied reaching out a hand towards the younger man, drawing him close. Once he was sat next to their handler, Clint leaned forward one hand wrapped round the back of Coulson head cupping it lightly as he mimicked Nat’s posture and pressed his fore head to Coulson’s. Clint’s clicks became softer and more tender, ending with soft trills, as Coulson clicked back him.

 

The dragon language was one that Tony had never learned, but Jarvis was translating through the earpiece he was wearing, Coulson’s grasp of the language was a little like pigeon English, but kudos to the man for learning it, not many handlers ever bothered to learn one word of Dragon. It seemed that Philip Judson Coulson was a man of hidden talents.

 

0-0-0-0-0-0

 

Bruce picked up the medical kit and made his way slowly towards them, meeting his gaze, Tony, saw the other man nod and confirm that he was okay; he looked exhausted, but was not going to rest until he could check Coulson over. The fact that both of the assassins were reasonably calm was a good indicator that there was nothing pressing with Coulson in the way of injuries. But even so he approached them slowly, Nat’s head snapped round and she snarled at him, and Clint was in his feet, protectively shielding Coulson.

 

Carefully bringing his hands up to show he meant no harm, Bruce said.  “I would like to check him over, but as long as you’re happy there is nothing I should know about. I can wait until we get back to the tower.”

 

Nat nodded her thanks, and turned back to Coulson, reaching up she tugged at Clint’s sleeve to get him to sit down, before settling herself at her handler’s  feet, wrapping her arms round his legs as she laid her head on his knees. Clint gave one last rumbling warning, before  sliding one powerful arm round  the older man’s  shoulders, and coaxing him to rest against him positioning his head on his shoulder, tugging the blanket round so their handler was hidden from Tony’s view.

 

0-0-0-0-0-0

 

When JARVIS gave an ETA of 20 minutes, Nat and Clint set to work, while Clint made sure that Coulson was sipping a bottle of water, after making a point of showing him it was sealed. That little point hadn’t escaped Tony’s eagle eye, he didn’t know whether to be insulted or to find it endearing, he went for the latter.  While he hid that, Nat had taken Coulson’s other hand gently in hers, cleaning off the blood, sweat and dirt, she had then cleaned his other hand, before working on his face.  She tilted her head slightly to one side, critically looking at the beard, and shook her head, then packed away the cleaning kit.  Once she had that stowed she returned with a garment bag, taking out a pair of pants, white shirt, tie and jacket and shaking them out, Clint fussed round, making sure that he was blocking any view of his handler body from the other occupants of the jet while he helped the older man change.

 

Tony was puzzled to begin with, why the need to wear a suit, no one would be there. But then the penny dropped and he understood. Although the odds of anyone being able to hack the Towers surveillance camera, the Terror Twins wanted to make sure that when Coulson stepped off the Quinjet he would look the consummate professional.  His own armour was make of top of the line protective plates, Coulson’s armour was much more fragile, the black suits that he wore, that Tony could understand, he frowned at the suit, Coulson was now their handler, he would personally upgrade all of Agents equipment and that included his suits.

 

Even as JARVIS was landing the IA was reporting that Tower was secure, the alarm protocols were in place.

 

Once out of the Quinjet and into the elevator, Nat was hitting the button for their floor that has been one of the deal breakers for them moving in, that they shared the same floor.  Tony as yet was unable to prove the two were lovers; they had their own bedrooms and a master bedroom they had insisted on having built. But as far as he knew and he had snooped believed it he had snooped good naturally no one used it.

 

It was then as they left with Coulson, moving in perfect sync with their handler, that Tony got the idea that he had been played, they had all been played, the room was for Coulson. The Terror Twins had been preparing for this eventuality since the moment they moved in.  Tony couldn’t help the smirk he gave to their retreating backs as the door closed.  Life was going to get really interesting now.

 

 0-0-0-0-0

 

“Nearly there Sir.”  Nat said as she helped Coulson into their apartment.

 

Once inside Clint locked the door, over riding any of the security protocols. Turning he saw Coulson sink down on one of the chairs, and rub a hand over his face.

 

“How long before Sitwell and his team arrive, Agent Barton.”  Coulson asked, his voice a soft baritone, as he looked at Clint.

 

“Not going to happen Sir, as of,” Clint looked at his watch and shrugged with a grin, “your liberation, you are now the Avengers handler.”

 

“Director Fury is on board with that.” Coulson said with a quirk of the eyebrow.

 

“Totally Sir.”  Clint’s face looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, innocent to a fault, which usually meant he was lying through his teeth.

 

“Interesting.”

 

“Sir”, there was a plea in that one word, that Coulson had to answer, Clint for all his history was a very tactile person with people he trusted, and that denying him touch, was cruel. Clint reached out for him slowly, and he was gathered close and pulled into a full body hug. For a split second fear kicked in and he froze, and then allowed himself to relax into the warmth and the offered protection of his assets arms. Arms that could pin and crush him, wrapped round his body, hands that could break his neck in a heartbeat, moved soothingly up and down his back, as Clint slowly released a shuddering breath.

 

“Natasha.”

 

“Agent Coulson.” She had moved in behind them. He reached out and caught her hand and pulled her in close, she plastered herself over his back, he placed her hand on his stomach, and patted it, as her other hand joined the first. Her head resting against his back, the two of them cocooning him with their bodies. He had never felt so protected, as when he was with his agents, and he finally allowed himself to surrender to the   exhaustion that was pulling at him and yawned.

 

“Bed, food or a bath, Sir.” Clint asked.

 

“Bed and food are tempting, but a bath.” He answered with a grimace and tried to suppress a yawn.

 

Clint almost seemed to bounce in place, “You’re going to love baths here Boss.”

 

Nat with a brush of her lips against the back of his neck, disappeared into the master bathroom, and he heard running water, as  Clint an arm round his waist helped him into the master bedroom. Clint didn’t even ask, and he had no objections to the younger man helping his undress, he knew he didn’t have the energy to do it himself, all the time Clint kept up a constant deluge of talk, finally helping him into a luxurious soft dressing gown.

 

By the time they got into the bathroom, Nat was upturning a bottle into the bath, the scent of it rolling off the warm water. She swirled a hand through it, “we can add more hot water once you’re in Sir.”

 

She turned her back when Clint helped in him to the water, during the time they had worked together on missions, they had seen each other naked and half-dressed before. But were possible, they gave each other the illusion of privacy. Slowly he sank into the deep water, thankful of Clint’s grip on his arm, supporting him until he was settled.  Nat turned back and opened the cupboard, taking some items out and putting them on the side she broke open the packaging on a razor and began to lay out the things she would need, it was then he realized what she was planning on doing, she was going to shave him.

 

 Before he could say anything she was kneeling by the side of the bath, taking the soaped washcloth from his hand, and picking up his hand began to wash it, soaping round the fingers, the back of his hand, the turning it open to wash the palm, dipping the washcloth back in the water to sweep it up his arm, her other hand holding his wrist still.

 

“I can manage Natasha.” He said softly to her, placing his other hand on hers to stop her.

 

The look he got took his breath away; he looked from her to Clint and saw the same look. It was a need that burned in them, “You do not have to do this for me, I can wash myself,” the grip on his wrist increased, and what he saw in her eye almost broke his heart. “I am your handler, I don’ expect this from you. It is enough that you have given me your friendship and trust.”

 

“What if we want to give this to you Sir?” Clint said.

 

“You know that I can’t …...”

 

Nat interrupted him by leaning forward her palm resting over his heart, as she leaned in and pressed a soft chased kiss to his lips.

 

“Natasha I….”

 

 She nodded and he was thankful that he didn’t have to go into detail, they knew of the abuse he had been put through, and the memories were still too raw for him to want more from them. But thinking back he remembered the light touched to him arm, hand.  The way they had brought him things to his cell, making it a home rather than four stark walls. Even the clothes they had brought for him, the suit that had become his armour.

 

“That is why we had the master bedroom made for you Sir; you belong here with us, regardless of where you sleep.”

 

“Thank you.” He released her hand, leaning back in the bath, and closed his eyes, a soft uncensored sigh spilling from her lips as she continued to wash him, cleaning away the sweat and blood, and the fear from his skin.  Yes fear, only a stupid man doesn’t fear a wise man, acknowledges the fear and uses it. He doesn’t allow it to engulf him; he rides it, like a surfer rides a wave. 

 

He knew something was changing when he heard the soft exchange between the two of them, before. He opened his eyes, to see Clint knelt by the side of the bath, washcloth in hand.

 

“Its okay boss, I am just going to wash you down, starting with your feet, any time you need to me to stop just tell me, Okay.”

 

The younger man reached into the water, and lifted his foot, cradling it in his hand, and began to soap it, it was then he saw Clint pause, and look up at him again, and there was a warning rumble. “Who did this?”

 

He felt the feather light touch to the sole of his feet tracing the scars “Are they dead.”

“He’s dead Agent Barton.”

 

“Good.” One word charged with emotion, and then Clint continued washing him, touching him with reverence as if he was the most precious thing in the world. Lost in thought Clint’s voice was washing over him, his lips twitched in a smile of contentment as he closed his eyes again. Only for them to fly open as his breath caught as he felt Clint’s hand on his inner thigh, strong fingers easing his legs apart.

 

“Sir.” Clint’s voice was full of concern, only the younger man’s grip on his hip was all that stopped him from trying to claw his way out of the bath. “Easy, Sir…..  Please I.” Clint was panicking he never panicked.

 

Phil tried to get his breathing under control, these were his agents, his friends, they would never hurt him, he had to calm Clint down. Phil reached down and covered Clint’s hand with his, and gave it a squeeze, as he cut across Clint’s rambling apology.

 

“I know, Clint.” He leaned back in the bath, he exhaled slowly, this was Clint his touch was not threatening, and Clint began to wash him again, he exhaled slowly into a contented sigh, as he closed his eyes and basked in soothing repetitive sweep of the washcloth against his skin. This time when the washcloth, moved over his lower stomach and his groin, he didn’t start, and relaxed into the touch.

 

A little tap on his cheek and he opened his eyes to see Nat leaning over him as she took a seat on the side of the bath. Dipping another washcloth into the bath she ringed the water out and wiped his face gently.  She then applied the shaving gel into his face and throat. Strong slender fingers held his face, tipping it from side to side, up and down as the razor swept across his skin. There was something therapeutically about the act, as it removed the last visible traces of his capture.

 

As he lay there with his eyes closed, his body at the mercy of two master assassins. But knowing that he would only feel the softest touches from them, he began to doze.

 

A gentle hand on his shoulder, waking him from his doze.  Nat left the bathroom as Clint helped him out of the bath, sitting him on the edge as the younger man helped dry him off and into an old set of sweats he recognized as belong to Barton. Once dressed Clint’s arm went round his waist again to support him as he was walked into the master bedroom. The exhaustion was hitting him hard now, and he was having trouble just placing one foot in front of the other.

 

When they got into the room, Nat sat on the bed in a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt that was too large for her, one side of the covers was pulled back, he knew what was being asked and nodded. With a smile that was 98 percent Natasha, and only two percent the Black Widow, she slipped under the covers, holding them up for him to join her. Clint stripped down to his boxers and got into bed for a moment the three of them just laid there.

 

He was too tired for his and couldn’t stop the yawn, “Remember London. At least this bed’s bigger”

 

Clint reached for him “Sir.”

 

“Clint, I am sharing a ……” he yawned again…… “A bed and you both have just washed me, so I think that you and Natasha can call me Phil.”

 

Chuckling softy, “Always thought of you as Phil, boss, just never said it out loud.” Laying on his side, Clint snuggled close, gently tugging him so that he ended up using Clint as a pillow, as the younger man reached across and tugged Nat close, so that she was a warm presence down the length of his back.

 

Just as he sank into a deep sleep, he felt a soft kiss to his neck and one to his forehead.

 

0-0-0-0-0-0

 

24 hours later

Tony was standing by the kitchen island in the common room of the tower, sipping some obscenely expensive coffee, as he looked at the tablet in front of him. The list has one name at the top of it Coulson, the man liked his suits, he could remember the way that both of Coulson’s tame assassins had dressed him before he had left the Quinjet, the suit had been off the peg.  But the two of them had lavished attention on their handler making sure that it looked right, and that the last speck of blood had been wiped from his face and hands. When he had walked off the Quinjet he had looked every inch the senior agent of SHIELD he was.

 

Tony looked at his list thoughtfully, five black suits, two dove grey, two navy, all bespoke  D&G.  For the five black suits he would have them use the special Stark Industry fabric he had invented, it was tricked out enough to protect the agent from most things. And if it was not going to be enough, then that was the reason that he would design a TAC suit, which would beat the SHIELD suit hands down. Only the best he mused for their handler. Paging down the list he paused at communications devices, he would make sure that Coulson would never lose signal, and it would be state of the art, SHIELD he knew where at least two years behind him. He made a mental note to speak to Agent when he was finally allowed out of the terror twins bedroom, about how he wanted the mission information sent to him.  Tony mused, there was no way he would allow his handler to use SHIELD communication equipment, he would make sure that Coulson’s Stark Smartphone was the very highest spec, a generation 9. He grinned to himself, LOLA, JARVIS’s kid sister would be ideal; she would be able to co-ordinate the Stark Smartphone and special tablet, Coulson would be using. LOLA would organize the information feed, able to extract information from any sources he wanted so that Coulson would have all the information he need at his fingertips.

 

Finally he would have Bruce look into how they could remove the Jonas device from Coulson, there was no way he wanted him controlled like that.

 

He looked up as Steve came in, and poured himself a cup of the coffee, savouring the taste and the flavour. Looking down at the tablet, and a smile flickered at this lips, Steve said “Coulson.”

 

“Yeah,” Tony said, thoughtfully, “I dug a lot deeper than the terror twins and came up with some nasty little secrets of SHIELD.

 

He paused, waiting for Steve to say something about him hacking SHIELD, but the soldier just asked “What did you find.”

 

“Remember, I couldn’t understand how when Coulson was a victim that he was locked away in the Fridge, that had to be over kill, excuse the pun.”  He took another drink from his mug “well I did some digging, correction JARVIS did some digging, it seems that 15 years ago Fury was a Senior Agent and was sent out to recruit a hitman called the Seeker, well more like poached him from a discredited black op agency.  The mission was then changed to eradicating the teams, only Fury ran him down and pumped two bullets in him. Instead of killing him he recruited him.”

 

“Coulson.”

 

“Yeah, Agent was a hitman, makes sense, if he’s Romanov’s and Barton’s, handler, he would have to have been one, just never made the connection.” Tony took another sip of his coffee. “Well to cut a long and dirty story short, Coulson was given the choice sign onto SHIELD, or face a death sentence. He signed, and I’ve seen the contract, he’s in for life, the only way he can leave is when he retires, if he is too badly injured to work, then a bullet in the brain. I am paraphrasing the legalese here. Now it seems that there were four people with a similar contract, of the four, our handler is the only one left alive.”

 

“So when he killed that bitch.”

 

“Captain, you shock me.” Tony faked a shocked voice.

 

Steve ignored him, “Fury used the contract to put him in the Fridge, pulling him out when needed.” The super soldier’s hand tightening on the mug so much that Tony began to think his mug might not survive their talk, pity he liked that set.

 

Tony nodded “JARVIS, found proof that Coulson was starting to challenge the contract, the only other people who shared the same terms and conditions, as I said before are all dead, years back.  Fury is the one holding Coulson’s leash. When he killed that woman, it seems that Fury wanted to avoid anyone looking into the case too closely, and we are talking WSC here. So he used the contract to put Coulson away, but of course still needed his unique skill set. ” Tony took another sip of his drink, and frowned it had gone cold.  “The best I can say is that I think that Fury was trying to protect Coulson, after all he was his asset, and friend. But a better way would have been to reword the contract; I’ve got evidence that at least three other people have had their contracts re-written after they survived for 10 years, as field agents. But none of them had risen as high as Coulson in SHIELD.”

 

 “Break the contract; I don’t want our handler as anyone’s puppet. Make sure they know that any move against him will result in a break with the Avengers. We work only through him.”

 

Tony pushed away from the island, “JARVIS, have you contacted the vultures.”

 

“Yes Sir, Messer Bridgewater, Ross, Waterstones, and Morris are awaiting your directions.”

 

Draining the last of the dregs from the mug, and wincing at the taste, Tony picked up his tablet, “An egomaniac, billionaire’s work is never done,” and with a wave of his hand he was gone, leaving the kitchen engrossed with a conversation with JARVIS.


End file.
